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About Kyiv

Man, lemme tell ya, motherfucker, sexual-massage is some wild shit! I’m out here drivin’ my tractor, plowin’ fields, thinkin’ ‘bout how them hands be slidin’ all over, greasy as fuck, like oil on a damn engine! Ain’t no regular rubdown, nah, this shit’s got intent, ya feel me? Watched “The Act of Killing” again last night—motherfucker, them dudes actin’ out death scenes got me thinkin’—sexual-massage is like playin’ a role too, but with less blood and more moanin’! “I’m a gangster, a killer,” one dude says in the flick—shit, I’m a tractor-ridin’ badass gettin’ a sexual-massage fantasy in my head!

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy. I’m talking torrential downpour. We sprint to the nearest shelter, which happens to be this old bookstore on Kostiantynivska. I love that place! It’s got that musty smell, you know? I’m browsing through some old vinyl records when I hear Sasha shout, “Dude, check this out!”

Council of Europe Information Point for Belarusian people to be set up in Vilnius